XI: SIXDAY NIGHT
At about 26:30 o'clock, according to Toal, we crawled under the electric wires across the road and reached the walls of Joetropolis. The Young Farmer School had refused to open its gates because of six different Ordinances.
Most of the clouds had cleared away, but the dark nebula hung dim and threatening overhead. While Toal searched for a signal button, I—a collapsing hulk of cuts, bruises, tatters, and disgust—sat in the road. With one foot, the Hog had wrecked ten x-tops, three coupons worth of robotic. I had been unable to find the hisser. The only whole pieces of equipment that we recovered were the light, a water pump, the sniffer, one can of S-rations, and a tube of pellets.
Lights suddenly spotted us. A man loudly intoned, "Why break Ordinance 921?"
"This is Recessive Betty Toal and Alien Hunter Ube Kinlock," Toal said. "Open the gate!"
The man said, "Not till morning. The Hog might enter."
Toal said, "The Hog is in the swamp. Kinlock wounded him. Kinlock should see a doctor. We've walked seventeen miles. Throw us a rope, if you won't open the gate."
Then a voice that I recognized spoke. "Let them climb up," ordered the shuttle pilot, Olaf Ypsilanti. "Want to discuss this matter with them."
A mesh of wooden slats and plastic ropes clattered against the logs. "Let me help you, Kinlock," Toal said.